No challenge fic ready just yet -- it's much longer than I expected it
would be. This story also contains a small amount of meta fiction (Yes,
Mr. Leifker, this is what I meant when I brought them up at fanime;
laugh if you will).
Sky and Shore
Disclaimer: The paints are the property of Ken Akamatsu. Only the easel
is mine.
Notes: This draws some elements from the original story of Taro Urashima.
--------------------------------
[Counted Days]
Year one had been a failure. An abysmal failure.
Year two had been more hopeful. Hours turned to days turned to weeks
turned to months of solid study. He was confident that he would make it.
But he hadn't. Another failure.
Year three had been another. Not expected at all. His study was serious
enough that he hadn't believed failure possible -- until he had taken
the test. But it was nothing but a failure.
Year four was the latest. It wasn't even over yet, but he knew -- he
_knew_ what it was, and what it would have to be.
"Taking a break?" The old man. Teacher. Guide. Confidante, perhaps. Maybe
even a role model.
"Yeah. Just resting."
"Well, shade's a welcome respite in the heat of the desert."
"Yep. Is this a good dig?"
There was a pause then, as the older man walked beneath the canvas
sun-shade, and took a seat on a closed cooler. He drew a cigarette from
a pocket and lit it, taking a long, deep drag. When he exhaled, the
smoke blew out in a long plume. In the dead air, the plume hung still,
slowly expanding along a flat, curved plane, much like a crane's
feather. "I think so," he said at length. "I'm not sure, yet. I might
have gotten myself a partner. I'd like that."
"Well, I...." He let the words trail off, wondering what defense he could
readily pose against that. "We'll see."
***
[Meddler and Warrior]
"I would like to think that there is something there."
"Oh, I know there is. You want to lay a claim on him, daughter of Ida-Ten?"
The immaculate swordswoman raised an eyebrow. "And you can speak that
name? I would have believed the very thought would pain you."
"Alcohol dulls all pains." The other woman allowed a grin to flit across
her face for a moment. "You're avoiding the issue."
"Not entirely. His path draws along many lines, some which bring him
closer to me, others to you."
"And the rest?"
"The sky, the shore... the dragon palace. Perhaps even the pillar of the
heavens. Who is to know the ultimate conclusion?"
"She would, I think."
The swordswoman stiffened, one hand dropping to her sheathed blade. "And
she would not say, if she did. You would meddle more than even your kind
should, to ask."
"Peace! Peace!" Hands waved in protest, the same smile returning. "I'll
make no move, yet."
"As I am constrained by my elders. Who then can make a move?"
"The child of Marisha-Ten, the Sea Princess, and... our dreamer friend."
"Your meddling worries me. A well grounded but hopeful dream is no evil
thing."
"Oh-ho! You think that if the right cards are played, he could be another
Sakata Kintoki, do you?"
The swordswoman dropped her hand from her weapon and blushed darkly.
"Goldenboy or not, he will be what he will be."
"Fine, fine... now tell me why you count two out?"
"Of the one, I will not speak, even if I discover the reason. For the
other, I could not guess, save to say that she wishes to observe more
than meddle at this point." She paused, her blush fading. "As I would
advise you to do. Regardless, it is time for the game to begin again.
She comes."
Sticking her tongue out at the swordswoman, the other woman allowed
herself to say, "Spoilsport," before vanishing from sight.
***
[Earth and Sun]
Hot... so hot....
After a few hours of work, the actual process of digging seemed to...
change. The shovel slid in with a grating and hissing resistance,
causing the hairs on his arm to stand on end, and his skin to prickle.
The resistance of the earth as he levered the shovel downward, and then
hauled it upward made his back protest.
But the more he did it, the more the movement became a relaxing manta,
and the sound a soothing whisper. It wasn't until the tip of the shovel
hit something solid that he paused, realizing that more hours had passed
since he had become accustomed to digging. The sun had passed behind a
stand of tall palm trees, giving him shade, and a cool breeze rustled
his tank top, making him wonder as its surprising surrender... but it
was a near victory, he realized, moving the shovel to one side, and
leaning against it to relax.
His sweat-slicked skin had nearly soaked the garment through, and he felt
a bath wouldn't be amiss.
"Find something?"
He looked up sharply, smiling when he saw the older man. "I think I did,"
he admitted.
"Want to dig it up, or take a break? You've been working yourself pretty
hard!"
"I'd like to catch my breath."
"Smart -- have some water." The older man produced a bottle of water, and
handed it to him. "Drink it slowly."
He nodded, doing as the man instructed. The refreshing liquid left him
feeling restored, and he sighed with contentment, handing the empty
bottle back to the man.
"Maybe you should sit down and catch your breath?"
"Ah, I'm okay, Sensei."
"Alright, then why don't we see what you found?"
He nodded, shifting his grip on the shovel and carefully scooping more
sandy earth to one side. A small wooden chest was revealed, with brass
fixings. Crouching, and lifting it carefully, he studied it, frowning.
"What's this?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.
"Many things," the old man said quietly. "At the moment, nothing. Were
you ever given a box?"
"I... think so. Ah, that's where Tamago came from, actually."
"Hmm. There's a first sign for you."
***
[Daughter of Heaven, Son of Ocean]
She leant against the rail before her, pursing her lips, and allowing the
cigarette there to bob slightly up and down, unlit in the cool night
air. "You're coming back, hmm?" she asked the night.
No voice answered her, but something happened, a man taking form from a
shadow behind her. He stood illuminated in the darkness after a moment,
solid and real, but staring up at the moon, even as she gazed at the sea.
"I like answers more than silence," she said, frowning slightly.
"Fair enough. I'm back, I'm back. He's coming back, too."
She turned her head to one side, almost far enough to see him. "I feel
sorry for him."
"Then again, you know how it's going to end, don't you?"
"I could." She paused, and her cigarette lit itself suddenly, spreading a
tiny glow against the darkness. After puffing slightly, she exhaled, the
smoke diffusing in the night air, long streaks finally thinning and
vanishing. "But I haven't looked. I think I already know, and to be
right... would break my heart."
"Ah," he said softly. "So that's how it is."
"He is my blood kin. How could I not care?"
"But you're not his mother."
"True enough. I'll miss her, too."
"Pardon?"
She shook her head, taking a long drag from her cigarette. "You know the
story. Whatever he wants, he has to go home. And there's nothing I can
do without forcing his choice for him."
"Then I shall follow him," the man said, turning to look at her, and
clasping his hands together behind his back. "Would that be better?"
She did not turn to face him. "I'd like it, but all the same, it would
change things... perhaps too much. I would have liked him to follow in
your footsteps, my love. That's the path I would have wished he would
pursue, if he had chosen my favored."
"Then she is my favored, too, though you honor me more than I deserve.
Tell me what I must do?"
"You know too much to do anything. The story will play itself out. How he
chooses... your favored -- your true favored -- will do as she must. It
is simply the way of things."
"And... if this had never happened?"
"If 'this'? I cannot spot what changed." She blinked, raising a hand and
tossing the cigarette away from her as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"But it was something, and something, I think, that was not meant to be.
Were things otherwise.... But our role in this play is nearly done, and
I'm left taking care of a house of meddlers."
"Love...."
"Let us finish this. I must stay to watch over the young one -- she is
too innocent to be left with those who will remain. You must find a
successor."
"There is one here who would serve in that capacity. If this is to be
done with, I'd just as soon not leave your side. But at the same,
despite what you say, I must watch over him for a while yet."
Turning to face him, the woman cocked her head to one side. "Is that so?"
"I will not interfere," he promised. "One of my kin will watch him for
me." And with that, he was gone.
The woman shook her head twice, and then she too was gone.
***
[Homecoming]
A day of defeat. Tragedy. Failure.
The day was a death of hope, for him. To return home with all of his
things....
Attempting to get into the college for so many years... if he had gotten
in the first time, then he would be nearly done by then.
The life he faced was not the life he desired, but it was the life he was
going to lead. He paused, stopping on the street and looking at the
building that he had lived so much of his life in. Biting his lip, he
thrust his hands into his pockets, and shook his head. "What now?" he
asked quietly.
Returning... returning would be a permanent change. It was something he
couldn't undo; not now.
"Urashima-kun?"
He jerked, pulling his hands from his pocket, and spinning about in
surprise. He blinked, eyes widening at the woman standing behind him.
"Otohime? What are you doing here?"
"Ara... I was on my way home, but I stepped out of the train to buy some
udon, and it left without me. Then I went to see the sights while I
waited for the next train, and ran into you! Where are you going?"
"Ah... well... this is where I live," he managed apologetically,
gesturing to the building. "My... my parents are probably waiting for me
inside."
"Don't you want to see them?" she asked, blinking curiously.
"Oh, well... I... I'm afraid," he admitted. "I failed to get in again.
That's four years of failure. I don't know how to show my face to them,
now. I just... four years of work for nothing."
"I know what you feel, Kei-kun," she said, taking another step closer to
him. "I failed, too."
He was surprised to hear that, and stared in silence for a moment.
"Really? I... I know Narusegawa got in, but I thought... I thought you
did, too."
She shook her head, looking away. "I didn't, Kei-kun. I'm going to run
away for a little while, and then I'm going to go home. I'm not sure
what to do, either."
An intense desire flared up in Keitaro's heart, and he took an impulsive
step forward. It wasn't simply for her body, it was something deeper,
though he couldn't quite put his fingers on what it was. "Mutsumi...."
She smiled at him, a hint of... sadness? No, that had to be an
illusion... or maybe it was for her own testing failure. "Would you like
to come with me?"
He blinked, shaking his head, and was about to refuse, but.... "I... I...
I don't want to go home yet. Well... okay, Mutsumi-chan. Let's run away
together."
A tear glimmered for a moment in the corner of her eyes, and she held a
hand out to him.
He took it, frowning curiously. "What are you crying for?" he asked, worried.
"I'm happy," she said quietly. "But a friend of mine... is going to be
very sad, and I feel sad for my friend."
"Who?"
"Ara... let's go, Kei-kun."
He nodded slowly, tightening his grip on her hand gently. "Okay."
***
[Passing Days]
"Aaaaaand... that's the last of it." She nodded to herself, surveying the
collection of carefully packaged boxes.
"Getting ready to leave?"
She turned to face her friend, and smiled. "Yep! I'm done with college,
so I'm ready to move out."
"Why did you decide to go to college, again?"
Frowning thoughtfully, she tapped a finger against her lower lip. "It was
a promise...." She blushed faintly, as she remembered the promise. "Ah,
it's not important."
"If you say so. Everything packed up... what a shame! How long have we
known each other here?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted. Her friend offered one of her trademarked
grins, and pointed behind her.
"Is that yours, too?"
She turned around to look, and saw a feather drifting from near the
ceiling of her room, rocking back and forth with strangely deliberate
motions. Blinking, she watched it stop rocking, and begin to spin in a
wide, lazy circle, finally coming to rest atop the small stuffed animal
that she set atop the wooden board covering the hole in her floor.
Crossing the floor, she studied it closely, frowning in consternation. "A
crane's feather?" she mused. "I wonder how that got here...." Shaking
her head, she gathered the stuffed animal. "Can't believe I almost
forgot this--" her words cut off, as the feather, precipitously balanced
across the nose of the creature, crumbled into ash, blowing away on an
errant breeze.
Before she could say anything else, the animal, too, crumbled into ash,
fading into nothingness before her very eyes. The last bit remaining
stuck between two of her fingers -- not the dull gray ash, but the small
tag that had been affixed to the creature. The characters scrawled there
in childish handwriting glowed briefly gold, and then faded, leaving her
holding a blank tag.
She opened her mouth to question her friend, but the other woman giggled,
and waved a hand.
"I'm sorry, Kitsune," she said, shaking her head. "What were we talking
about? I must not be paying attention -- I just forgot everything!"
"Nothing to worry about, I assure you."
***
[Four Corners]
The swordswoman stood in her place at the peak of the roof, facing
eastward. Her long hair billowed out behind her, and her arms were
crossed over her chest as she stared at the rising sun. "It would seem
then that our pretenses are not needed any longer."
"Maybe, maybe not," a voice answered her, another woman climbing onto the
top of the roof, and staring out over the city. "Pretense or not, I've
kind of taken a liking to the place, daughter of Ida-ten."
"As have I," a much more tremulously voiced young woman said. "And its
purpose need not be abandoned forever."
"You speak the truth, daughter of Marisha-Ten," the swordswoman returned.
"And all the same, I cannot leave in good conscience while a Kitsune
remains to meddle with innocents. Such illusions are unkind to those who
deserve better."
"I think you don't see everything that there is on that issue," a fourth
voice said, this one from a darker-skinned young woman as she too
appeared, sitting on the peak of the roof just behind the swordswoman.
"What harm as she wrought? All her mischief was merely that, you realize."
The Kitsune merely smirked, while an errant breeze played with the
swordswoman's hair.
Heaving a pained sigh, the swordswoman shook her head. "It pains me to
admit that I realized that; but I do not wish to leave this place.
However, that decision doesn't belong to us, does it?"
Another pair arrived on the rooftop. Turning to face them respectfully,
the swordswoman, and the paler of the young women both bowed courteously
to the pair. The Kitsune and the tanned young woman merely nodded.
The woman leant against the man who arrived with, her, and shook her head
sadly. "And I want to leave, but you would all prefer to remain anyway?"
The swordswoman looked away. "I have no other calling," she admitted
after a moment. "Few evils walk the Earth that can truly be vanquished
as I am taught."
"And yet, there's still a place for you, should you wish it," the man
murmured. "I am in need of a successor, and the one I had hoped for was
not able to take the role I intended. Ida-Ten is one who I have nothing
but respect for. Would you serve his will in my place?"
Blinking, the swordswoman nodded stiffly. "It would give my life
meaning," she stated firmly. "I would be honored."
"Well enough," he said, nodding. "It will be done. Love?"
"Yes," the woman leaning against him sighed. "So many of us in one
place... we make it less real, I think. It is not always a good thing."
The Kitsune spoke again, shaking her head, "I don't know about that. No
real harm done... though I have to ask -- what's the Sea Princess doing
now?"
"My will," the man said, grinning slightly. "And when that's done,
perhaps you'll meet my love's intended successor. For the time, however,
we will leave what must be done to those who must do it. And that means...."
"I will take care of the foundling," the darker colored young woman decided.
"And I," the other young woman added. "She is nearly of an age where she
can take care of herself, regardless."
"The two of you?" the woman asked, frowning. "That will be something to
see. It is good enough for me, then."
A stray breeze passed, and the man's smile widened slightly. When the
breeze was gone, so were he and the woman with him.
"Such is the nature of these things," the swordswoman mused. "I can only
imagine that it was not meant to be this way."
"It wasn't," the Kitsune assured her. "But I'm not sure where it went
wrong, either."
"A pity." The swordswoman offered a faint smile, and vaulted upwards,
flipping over in the air, and disappearing below.
"And what were your roles in this?"
"I've done nothing more than you," the darker of the two young women
said, shaking her head. "Though I regret that sometimes. What's done is
done."
"Are you going to leave?"
"Not until the daughter of Marisha-Ten leaves," she said, smiling softly.
"I trust you, Kitsune, but there are limits to my gullibility. The masks
we wear are not the roles we play."
"Touche," she murmured. "Then I will take my own leave... except to give
you a warning."
"What warning would that be?" the more timid of the young women asked.
"Motherhood may not suit you." Laughing aloud, the Kitsune scampered
away, vanishing in a mist as she reached the edge of the roof.
"Are we making a mistake?"
"Everything was a mistake. We've meddled too much."
"And what will happen?"
"Something interesting, I think. We must be careful, or the damage cannot
be undone. How will he react, I wonder, when he wakes up from his time
with the Sea Princess?"
***
[Another Homecoming]
Sitting on the train, he stared out the window, and tapped his feet
impatiently. He wasn't sure why, but as soon as he had gone with
Mutsumi, his mind had left him. Vague memories of her sad smile and the
soft touch of her hands... the backgrounds of those visions were city
streets, grassy slopes, and more than that, beaches. But they all melted
and blurred in his head, the only constant her, and her whispers of
apology to him.
Why would she apologize? They had been gone for a long time... far longer
than he had intended, but all the same, it couldn't be that long;
neither of them had much money.
Shaking his head, he rose as the train glided to a halt, his bag slung
over his shoulder. When it halted, he disembarked, focusing more on the
maze of his memories than the road before him. Eventually, he stopped,
and raised his head.
But the building before him was not the building he remembered. Casting
about, he realized that the other buildings, too, had changed. The name
of the street, the address... those things were the same, but it wasn't
the home he had known.
Stepping inside cautiously, his eyes widened at a familiar woman standing
behind the counter.
She raised an eyebrow, regarding him curiously. "Can I help you?"
"I... Kanako?" he hazarded.
The woman's eyes widened slightly. "You knew my grandmother? I've been
told I resemble her... but you hardly look old enough to have met her!"
His hands rose, nearly of their own accord, and rubbed at his temples.
"I... I think I made a mistake." He nodded apologetically, and turned to
leave. "Sorry to trouble you."
"You've hardly troubled me, but maybe I could help--"
He had no time to listen to her, running out of the building, and down
the street. That place... it fit, as little as he had liked it. What had
his sensei told him when he had unearthed that chest, so long ago?
He had called it the first sign.
Pausing in an alley, he pulled a box from his bag. It was the box that he
had been given by Otohime after their long vacation, but too, it was the
same chest he had unearthed when he had been digging for answers, so
long ago. Swallowing a lump of fear back, he realized it was more than
simply that; it was the same box that Tamago had emerged from.
With trembling hands, he opened the box, and vanished, nothing more than
a crane feather drifting down to mark that he had ever been there.
***
[Mischief]
"Too easy," she murmured to herself, allowing her illusions to vanish.
"I hope you enjoyed yourself."
She turned, widening her eyes in surprise. "Oh! I didn't think I'd run
into you here! But then, it's too late, and no real harm was done, anyway."
"Perhaps, perhaps not." The swordswoman emerged from a shadow, and held
out a hand. The feather rose from the ground to float across her
fingertips, finally balancing upright along her palm. "Nothing you could
have done would have changed anything. He will belong to the Sea Princess."
"Your servant, of course."
"In some capacity. More importantly, what was done, here, can be undone."
"Would you undo it, so easily? And how?"
"It is less difficult than you would imagine." The swordswoman allowed a
smile to flit across her face.
"Say what you will -- what would come of it?"
"Yes, what?" asked another voice, both of the younger women appearing again.
"What should. More importantly, I would ask you why you allowed this path
to go as far as you have."
The darker-skinned young woman looked away, shaking her head sadly.
"Curiosity," she admitted. "I knew it had been changed, but I wondered
what path was there first, before the Sea Princess returned, or the
innocent dreamer."
"And what did you find?"
"As I said, events were changed. The true intent is this path, but I
cannot say that it is preferable. Let it be undone, and set him back on
the path with the dreamer."
"I'll agree to that," the Kitsune said, nodding. "She was something of a
friend, after all."
The swordswoman nodded curtly. "If it as you say, then we will return
things to the way they should be." She narrowed her eyes suddenly, faint
power flickering within their depths as she studied the two younger
women. "But this time, we must leave all as it was meant to be. The true
path is not always the path we require."
The pale-skinned young woman sighed unhappily. "But if the path is to
change, then the dreamer will hold him in the waking world -- I know in
my heart that none of us want that. Not even you, daughter of Ida-Ten,
heir to Ocean."
"What would you suggest, then?"
"A truce, where all of us may win the game, if on the surface it would be
the dreamer who won."
The Kitsune raised an eyebrow, smiling slowly. "Ah, that could work, but
at such cost...."
"And such reward," the darker-skinned younger woman countered. "Raising a
daughter was not what I would have expected, but this path would grant
me a son. One who would be instrumental in the changes that would
follow. Very well. I agree."
"Good enough for me!" the Kitsune declared.
"And I," the pale-skinned young woman agreed, nodding.
"Unexpected, but I will agree. What of the Sea Princess?"
"She would want the dreamer to be happy, and I believe she would agree."
"Done."
***
[Fever Dreams]
"Are you feeling any better?"
His eyelids fluttered open slowly, and he tried to make out his
surroundings. It was as though he were deep beneath the waves, staring
upwards at the sun, wavering and shimmering light spreading across him
in a circle, a pair of feathers drifting towards him.
"I think so," he said quietly, as the vision faded into the electric
light, and the feathers vanished. "Suu made me listen to the story of
Urashima Taro...."
"That old fairy tale?"
"Yeah... I had an awful dream about it, too."
"What happened?"
"I... I failed to get into Todai, but you got in, and then I never saw
you again."
"... what's so horrible about that?"
He sat up to regard her levelly. "Narusegawa?"
She flushed, and looked away. "And... anyway, if you study hard enough,
you'll make it for sure, this time."
--------------------------------
Author's notes:
This is (somewhat) the result of a conversation with Edward Simons. One
half of it is my impression of the series, the other is Mr. Simons's
commentary on what the names of the various characters meant. Now if
anyone understands this, I'll be impressed. If you can guess who Suu is
the daughter of, I'll be impressed even more.